


What do you need?

by nano



Category: Good Wife (TV)
Genre: Banter, Elections, Fade to Black, Gen, Political Campaigns, Scheming, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Women Being Awesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-19
Updated: 2012-12-24
Packaged: 2017-11-21 14:07:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/598601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nano/pseuds/nano
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kalinda, Eli and a birthmark the shape of Brazil. They do it for Peter, Alicia and the campaign, but also because they like to win. It's nothing to do with impressing each other...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Feral Herd

**Author's Note:**

  * For [karaokegal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/karaokegal/gifts).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eli doesn't like asking for help, but he has no problem demanding it.

Kalinda Sharma stood perfectly still in the doorway of Eli’s office, hand on one hip, staring straight at him with a thunderous expression. As one of his staff approached from the outer campaign office, sheaf of paper in hand, and mouth already forming a stupid question, Kalinda spun around and blocked her path.

“He’s busy.”

With that, she slammed the door so hard he winced and strode towards him until she was standing far too close.

“You put a _tracker_ on me?”

“Yep,” he bit back, with an exaggerated snap of the head and passable attempt at flippancy. “You go to a _quilting_ class? Seriously, I’m interested - what went wrong in your life that- “

“Don’t have your idiots follow me. They’re not good at it.”

With that she made to leave, and he hurriedly started to speak in more placating tones, “Look, I needed to talk to you – if you don’t want to be followed by my inept yet enthusiastic minions, could you _consider_ answering your cell? Just sometimes? Say, one time in five?”

The trace of curiosity in her expression emboldened Eli to plough on with renewed animation. “I had to take that tracker off Maddie Hayward’s judo coach to provoke you into meeting me. One more day, the coach would have flipped and my pet moron would have ended up with broken bones. Now I have to keep paying his incompetent ass.”

He thought he saw the tension in her body give in just a little, as she dropped into a chair, leant back and crossed her legs.

“I’m sorry about that,” she deadpanned. “What do you need, Eli? You remember I _don’t_ work for you?”

He leant back against the desk and sighed. “It’s not work, it’s… I’m sorry. There’s a thing. It came up this morning, and I think it may blow up on us. I need to ask you something-” As Kalinda looked ready to interrupt, he held up one hand and continued with renewed emphasis.

“It’s not just the campaign. It’ll hurt Alicia, Kalinda. I _know_ you don’t want that to happen, even if you don’t care if Peter and I both go to hell. Now, I need to talk to her and I need to talk to the candidate, and I need to do both of those things about twenty minutes ago, but I sent a tracker on you to get you here because if I can ask you a question first – it’s impolite, I’m sorry, but that is the feral herd of journalistic hyenas we’re playing with here  – then I _won’t_ have to ask Alicia, and I will _know_ what I am dealing with, and I will be _able_ to _help_ her.”

She looked at him evenly for a moment, then gave a humorless smile. “He doesn’t have a birthmark. Now go convince Illinois.”


	2. Flying Blind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trust is an alien concept to Eli - for Kalinda too, when it comes to that.

Kalinda Sharma was already perched on the desk in Eli’s office as he strode hurriedly in, cell phone to his ear, barking in irritated staccato.

After a momentary double-take, he shrugged and wound up the call, then took his time in shedding coat, scarf and files before taking to his chair and raising his eyebrows in anticipation.

“I didn’t ask for you.”

“And yet here I am.”

“Lost on the way to quilting class, or did you discover something on David Lee so juicy you just _had_ to share? There must be plenty skeletons in that squat little reptile’s stinking den of a closet – just… _please_ don’t tell me him and Diane are making the half-human half-scaly beast with a warty orgasm face, because I just ate.”

“I may have something for you, Eli.”

A pause, and he gently – for him - scrutinized her face. “You’re smiling. You never smile at me. Don’t tell me Jackie’s moving to a nice retirement condo in Florida, I don’t think my shrunken heart could bear the happiness.”

“I don’t have it yet, I need a few days. But you should do some things.”

“I _hate_ it when people say that. What kind of things?”

“You’ve got Peter appearing on that show tomorrow, haven’t you?”

“How do you _know_ that? Why don’t you work for me, again?”

“Take him off it. You go instead.”

Eli frowned in confusion. “I’m not the candidate, Kalinda.”

Her lips quirked into a smile as she cocked her head to one side. “Don’t tell me that every talk show in town hasn’t wanted you on.”

“They want Eli Gold, bullying master-manipulator, saying something outrageous that they can play on a loop for the rest of the campaign. Funnily enough, that is _not_ part of our strategy. I want people to _forget_ that Peter’s campaign manager is a morally bankrupt shyster. I am not the story. I am not even here." Having worked himself up to a frenetic pace, he suddenly and unexpectedly voiced a high-pitched shriek, “Pay noooo attention to the man behind the curtain!”

Silence. “Too much?”

Kalinda couldn’t contain a quiet, bubbling laugh. “Still, Eli. You should do it. It’s not as if Peter shines next to Kresteva anyway.”

“He looks _great_ next to Kresteva.”

She gave him a pointed look, and Eli sighed.

“He looks great next to Kresteva when they’re talking about politics, but, _fine_ , in the fluff interviews, Peter… does not appear at his best. That smarmy Republican bastard is _far_ too wholesome; it makes people remember the scandal every single time. Which leads me to ask, why on earth do you think I’m an adequate pinch-hitter for Peter Florrick? I mean, apart from my obvious appeal to the family values God-fearing demographic. And my great hair.”

“Because you’re a master-manipulator. _The_ master-manipulator. Try and steer things so you can get some of these soundbites in.”

She handed him a typed piece of paper, which he read carefully – eyebrows rising steadily up into his hairline – then neatly folded and pocketed.

“You want me to talk about the campaign worker sex allegations?  _Voluntarily_? You know we look bad whenever anyone even _thinks_ about Indira Starr near a television camera, right? And you’re asking me to do this flying blind? Just because you say so?”

“Yes, I am.” She tilted her head and eyed him gravely. “Do you trust me, Eli?”

The answer was immediate. “Uh, _no_!” But then, as they held each other’s gaze, “Yes. _Yes_ , I trust you, god help me.”

He continued quietly, in a tone she’d never heard from him before, “You’re going to bring this home, bubbala?”

Surprised, Kalinda nodded. Without another word she got to her feet and walked away, leaving him staring contemplatively in her wake.


	3. Nothing But Contempt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You really wouldn't think that he hated being interviewed.

Kalinda Sharma sat alone in Eli’s office, drinking a beer and watching his TV. On-screen, Eli was displaying all the charm he could muster on the talk show, and clearly making quite the hit.

Kalinda was impressed. He was funny and personable on the screen, and self-deprecating in a manner completely alien to the hot-headed arrogance she was used to. He skillfully acknowledged his own controversial reputation with humor, and without dwelling on it, and - whilst not skirting the obvious fact that Peter Florrick paid his generous wages - talked about his candidate’s strengths with an openness and warmth that made his support seem sincere, deeply considered, and not merely professional.

Any time the other guest spoke, however, Eli’s witty geniality sharpened into something less warm, less gregarious and open. It was cleverly done – not openly disdainful, nothing tangible enough for Kresteva to make objection – but watching Eli face Kresteva you felt that here was a man making every effort to maintain his naturally civil manner when faced with someone morally repellent, and _almost_ succeeding. It was masterful, it was magnetic, and maybe it was even sincere.

Kalinda leant forward in concentration as the host – with an apologetic glance to Eli - brought the discussion round to Indira Starr’s allegations. Kresteva looked happily anticipatory as he prepared to twist the knife into Peter - making his surprise all the more obvious when Eli showed himself not just willing to play ball, but positively expansive on the topic.

“I’m very happy to talk about the allegations, Helen. In fact, I would welcome another chance to set the record straight here. I can’t defend Peter when it comes to what he did in the past, and he wouldn’t want me to – what he did with those call-girls hurt his wife and hurt his kids in a way that was unforgivable. But you know, that was a mistake in the personal sphere, and that’s the business of the Florrick family alone. There’s nothing for us, as bystanders, to forgive there, because it wasn’t us he betrayed.”

“This recent allegation – this recent slanderous, untrue allegation – has been concocted by a troubled young woman encouraged by the State Attorney’s political enemies, and both she and they deserve no forgiveness from the electorate. Because to use a false rumor to smear a man’s reputation, to risk his _family life_ – because, please, everyone, just take a moment to imagine what it must do to a family that has already suffered enough intrusion, to now have to deal with this disgusting rumor – for mere political gain, well that is morally _indefensible_ , and it is unbecoming of those who wish to represent the state of Illinois.”

Eli drew a deep breath and then leant back into his seat with an air of satisfaction. Kresteva clearly couldn’t believe his luck; his adversary – representing a candidate dogged by sex scandals –had just taken up precious airtime with a lengthy defense that meant absolutely nothing when the story wouldn’t go away and they hadn’t managed to discredit the woman involved.

His response was dripping with scorn, “Mr Gold. I am amazed at your boldness. You defend a man who thinks himself fit to serve as Governor of this great state when all of his actions show a fundamental dishonesty and utter unsuitability for that honor. No Eli, I’m afraid that far from sympathy for Peter Florrick, I have nothing but contempt for your sleazy, lying candidate.”

“You maintain that the State’s Attorney is lying, and that this campaign worker – who has, by the way, been unable to back up her story in the slightest – is telling the truth. Now could that _possibly_ be because it’s to your benefit, as his electoral rival, to propagate false rumors about him? Tell me, how _honorable_ is that?”

Kresteva gave a pitying laugh, “I wasn’t there, Eli, and so of course I can’t claim to know for certain what happened with this campaign worker. But I know what I believe, given what we’ve all seen of Peter Florrick, and that is that he is not an honest man-”

“We’ll see, Sir. We’ll see.” Eli was full of fire and contempt, and Kalinda shook her head smilingly in admiration. Then, with what might have a grin, she drained the rest of her beer, switched off the TV, and got back to work.


	4. A Very Suggestive Case

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victory is sweet.

Kalinda Sharma tapped briskly at Eli’s office door, a calculated five minutes after Mike Kresteva’s campaign manager had been due to arrive. When Eli called her to come in, she tripped demurely over to him, handed over a manila folder and smiled dazzlingly at both men as she took a seat.

“ _Thank_ you, Ms Sharma,” Eli said with emphasis, smiling a dangerous Cheshire Cat smile.

“Now, Adam, I am _so_ sorry to call you all the way over here into the enemy camp. My associate Ms Sharma and I just had a few questions we thought you might want to put to your candidate, which it really seemed best to discuss in person.”

“Get on with it Eli, I really don’t have the time for this-“

“Let’s get right to it then,” and there was no smile now, just danger. “Indira Starr, a former campaign worker for the State's Attorney, claims she slept with him on numerous occasions. He denies this. She says he has a birthmark the _shape_ of _Brazil_ on his penis. He hasn’t bothered denying that.”

“But he doesn’t have to,” Kalinda interjected. “In that folder there’s a sworn statement from a call-girl that Peter Florrick visited two years ago. She says that there’s no such birthmark.”

“That’s…well, that’s lovely to know, but why don’t you just call a press conference about Peter’s penis – that should set matters straight and the electorate can sleep easy tonight knowing that a call-girl vouches for your candidate. Why am I here, Eli?”

“Oh, _I’m_ sorry.” Eli was at his most caustic, “Am I boring you? Don’t worry, it’s about to get very interesting.”

Kalinda took over seamlessly, “I talked to Miss Starr a few weeks ago about these allegations, about several occasions on which she claims to have slept with Peter Florrick. She showed a tendency not only to lie, but to embroider her story with little details that gave away the lie – she described using an elevator to get to a floor she couldn’t possibly have reached without a keycard. She described having a conversation with Mrs Florrick that was entirely ridiculous to anyone who has ever met Mrs Florrick. This new detail, about a strange birthmark, seemed to me exactly the same kind of slip-up.”

“Fascinating.”

“Yes, yes _I_ thought so,” said Kalinda, earnestly. “But, the thing is… it’s an odd lie, isn’t it? Where on earth would you get the idea to invent a birthmark on a man’s _penis_? It sounds so implausible. It just seemed…strange.”

“Can I go yet?”

“Oh I don’t think you’re going to want to,” Eli assured him savagely. “Because here in this folder – which, by the way, you are going to want to take a _real_ close look at later - I have a copy of some of your candidate’s old medical records. And you know what, it _is_ possible to have a birthmark the shape of Brazil on your penis. Who knew?”

There was a long, long pause. No-one spoke. It seemed like no-one even breathed.

Then Adam, struggling for composure, began, “Those were obtained illegally-”

“You know as well as I do that that won’t matter to any journalist I mail them to.”

“They prove nothing.”

“No. No, they don’t. But along with some hotel receipts that Ms Sharma has also very kindly found copies of, and which you’re welcome to take a good long look at, they form a very suggestive case that Mike Kresteva slept with Indira Starr, that he persuaded her to tell stories smearing Peter Florrick with exactly the indiscretion he himself had just committed, and that he has knowingly lied about this, again and again. Did you see our interview yesterday, by the way? Your candidate spoke up very passionately for honesty and family values. I was _almost_ touched, then I remembered he’s a lying, sleazy bastard of a-”

Adam grabbed the folder from Eli’s outstretched hands and stormed out. Eli lay back and steepled his fingers together, smiling broadly at Kalinda.

“That. Was _well_ done.  Bravo.”

“Bravo yourself.”

“I’m going to call the candidate. Then I’m going to have a drink. Then you’re going to have a drink.”

She looked about to argue, then shrugged and smiled. “Ok.”

“One thing, though?”

“Yeah?”

“How did you know?”

“Know what?”

“Know to look out his medical records. Know to dig further into connecting him with Indira Starr – he covered his tracks, there.”

“Ah. Well….His wife told me.”

“ _What?!_ ”

“Not about the affair. I don’t think the poor woman has any idea about Indira Starr. But she told me about the birthmark.”

“How on _Earth_ did you-”

Kalinda gave a feline smile. “I’ve been talking to his wife quite a lot over the past few months. By the most _amazing_ coincidence, right after Kresteva announced he was running for the Governorship, I ended up joining her quilting class.”

She got to her feet, and looked with satisfaction down at his face, its expression currently flickering between awe, mirth, irritation and – she knew when she saw it, no matter how much he thought he was masking it – desire. She held out her hand to him, and pulled him to his feet as he took it unhesitatingly.

“Come on, Eli. Let’s go.”


End file.
